Two Worlds
by Merlin07
Summary: AU where Peter Carlisle from "Blackpool" winds up working with Alec Hardy from "Broadchurch"
1. Chapter 1

Natalie smiled at she looked at the clock. Since moving to a new town, far from her old life, far from Blackpool to be with Peter, her world revolved around him. Her children claimed to understand and support her decision, but they had their own lives and a weekly phone call was all the contact she had with them.

Her friends? Or, rather, the people she had thought were her friends, who in reality had just sucked up to her to get to Ripley's money and influence, had turned their backs on her once she no longer had access to either of those things.

Ripley had kept in touch. He had become her friend, which was odd considering how things had happened. Occasionally when Peter's salary didn't extend quite far enough he had wired her money to cover the bills. Peter didn't need to know, of course. His pride and ego would be hurt if he knew about this, so she spared him that knowledge.

Shaking her head she focused on the present. Today was the big day, she smiled as she felt the side of the champagne bottle, seeing if it was cold enough. Peter had been put up for a promotion. The Kendal police department had welcomed him back, glad to have one of their best back within their ranks and he was now going to be rewarded by promoting him to DCI.

She smiled as she imagined Peter in full uniform. Until they had been together his wardrobe had been functional but not very stylish. Her eye for fashion and her love of the man she was outfitting, greatly increased his appearance.

Sometimes, she sighed, a bit too much. It was hard to ignore the looks he got when they went out together. Many times she caught women, and some men, staring quite openly at Peter. Sometimes it made her want to hide him away from the rest of the world, worried that someone would take him away from her.

But most of the time she was proud of him. He was a fine looking man, and could have anyone he wanted, and still he chose her.

She heard a car crunching up the drive and then the door slam as Peter got out. Quickly she fetched two glasses and arranged the sheer negligee she was wearing to show off her best assets and waited, with a smile to help him celebrate his new position.

Peter burst into the kitchen without even a glance her way. Normally he greeted her with a smile and kiss, and they would talk about their respective days. But his angry face and mutterings as he twisted off the cap of a bottle of beer and tossed it back in almost one swallow told her something was wrong.

"What's that for?" he snapped gesturing at the champagne.

Caught off guard Natalie felt suddenly very exposed and pulled her robe around her, "to celebrate your promotion..." she stammered.

"Chuck it away," he snarled, his dark eyes snapping with rage, "I didn't get it!"

"What?" Natalie squeaked, "I thought it was in the bag?"

"I thought so too!" he growled, "but they brought in someone else. Promoted him above me!"

She gaped at him, at a loss for what to say, what to do with this news.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"Said he had more experience, that Kendal needed 'new blood' in the force, a 'fresh perspective' and other complete bollocks!"

Natalie was silent, even though a myriad of questions ran through her head, she knew that now was not the time to ask them, she needed to let Peter vent and then they could discuss it more rationally.

He took the seat opposite and put his head in his hands, "this guy, the fucker that got my job, I did a bit of research on him. He was put on medical leave but had some super-secret operation and was reinstated. He's been on some high profile cases and is seen as some sort of golden boy in a few circles. I got onto someone who's worked with him and they say he's a complete bastard. I can't believe they gave him the job they promised to me!"

Natalie reached across the table and took his hand in hers, "I am so sorry, love," she cooed, her heart clenching at the sight of his distress.

He wasn't ready to be comforted and pulled away from her touch, "maybe we should open that bottle, get good and drunk. Maybe that would help me get in the proper state to attend the welcoming dinner for this asshole tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, there's a bit of a to-do at New Moon tonight. A dinner in his honour, we're all supposed to attend."

Peter rose from the table, "I'll go get cleaned up, and you'd better change! There is a dress code and that outfit won't cut it."

Natalie grimaced as she looked down at the negligee, and the hope that she had possessed when she had bought it.

"Maybe my luck will change," Peter laughed humourlessly, "and the bastard will choke to death on something."

Natalie got to her feet, emptied the ice out of the bucket and put the champagne back into the refrigerator, her heart heavy. Peter had been so up, so happy and now to have his dreams dashed, it hurt her like a blow to the chest.

She knew he was tough, he'd work through his disappointment but she still hated to see him so low. Wishing she could just take him into her arms and make him forget this blow to his ego, she wandered upstairs to get changed and check in on him.

Peter was standing in front of the open wardrobe, dressed only in pants and a vest, looking at the options before him. He heard her come in, "what does one wear to an 'I just got royally screwed' dinner?'" he asked without turning around. 


	2. Chapter 2

She came up next to him, putting her arm around his trim waist, "blue is a power colour," she suggested, taking a dark blue suit that she knew fit him beautifully, "pair that with that slate-grey tie, and a crisp white shirt..."

"I wish I had the balls to not attend this farce," Peter murmured as he took the clothing from her.

"That would be like running away with your tail tucked between your legs," Natalie countered, "better you show up and let them know you will not be cowed!"

He looked down at her, with a crooked smile, "have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Yes, but I could stand to hear it again," Natalie smiled back, grateful to see his face light up when he gazed upon her.

"If we had more time," he sighed regretfully as he slipped into the suit trousers, "I'd show you how much, but we have to get going."

She got up on tip-toes to kiss him, then walked over to her closet, to pick out something suitable to wear.

The drive to New Moon was silent and tense. Natalie had to keep reminding herself that Peter wasn't upset with her, he was disappointed at being passed over and possibly just a bit nervous at meeting his new boss.

Peter was not Ripley, she chanted in her head, like a mantra. When Ripley would fall into silences it usually meant he was up to something, something that was no good. Peter was a lot more open with his feelings, and every night before going to sleep they'd talk like two teenagers chatting on the phone and hold each other until they dropped off.

Now she felt as if she were standing on one edge of the ocean and Peter on the other. Her heart feeling a wide gulf that seemed unnavigable and she wanted to have him pull over to the side of the road, to reassure him that she still loved him, to get reassurance from him, but she held her tongue.

As they went to go inside the restaurant someone Peter obviously worked with stopped him, "have you seen your twin yet?" the man snicker as he blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke.

"What are you on about?" Peter asked his handsome face curled into a frown.

"The new boss-man," another man spoke up, laughing, "he's a dead ringer for you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Peter snapped, "you two have been swimming in the free drinks since you've arrived, haven't you?"

He took Natalie's arm and led her in through the doors, as one of the men called after them, "you'll see!" he taunted.

The restaurant was busy with regular customers and they were guided through the crowd to a special banquet room at the back. Peter spotted a the familiar faces, some gathered at the bar, seeming to be in a race as to who got the drunkest the fastest, others milling around or in tight groups having conversations.

He scanned the crowd for the new DCI, but didn't spot him right away. A waitress came by with a tray of assorted drinks and he took a glass of white wine for Natalie and a lager for himself.

"Wonder where the miracle man is?" he addressed Natalie, "can't wait to see my..."

He was cut off as Natalie made a strange noise at the back of her throat. At first he thought she had gulped her wine a bit too much and was choking but she held the glass, untouched in her hand.

Instead she was staring across the room, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide.

He followed her gaze and saw what had her attention. Or, rather, who had her attention. Just inside the back door, a tall man with a rumpled blue suit hanging off of his thin frame about the same colour as his, but not as tailored, with dark ginger hair and about a two day growth of beard was standing there.

His face looked haggard and his skin, even though he was rumoured to be fit for duty, still held the pale waxen yellow look of a person with serious health issues.

"He looks just like you," Natalie gasped. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't be silly," Peter laughed, "I don't look like I slept in my clothing, and I've spent some time with a razor in the past week."

Then he noticed the man's eyes as he looked up. Those eyes, he mused, he saw them every morning as he brushed his teeth. Who was this stranger, and what was with the eerie resemblance?

He must have stared longer than he meant to because next thing he knew those eyes were right in front of him, "DCI Hardy," the man returned his gaze unblinkingly, "and you are?"

Peter gulped as he realised the man was speaking with a pronounced Scottish accent, a low gravelly voice that sounded a lot like his own, but not as warm.

He swallowed and held out his hand, "DI Peter Carlisle," he finally replied, sounding like a school boy caught doing something naughty.

Hardy didn't take his hand, instead his eyes travelled from Peter's to his shoes and back up again, "I've heard about you," he said, then without another word turned on heel and walked away.

Peter had almost recovered from the shock of meeting his well worn doppelg nger when one of the men who had talked to them outside came up next to him, "told ya!" he laughed clapping Peter on the back.

"Yeah," another one added, "you even dressed the same, blue suit, grey tie, twinsies!"

Peter scowled, "are you done?"

"Oh," the first one laughed, "probably not, I'll let you know if I come up with something else!"

At that they giggled like school girls and traipsed away.

Natalie came out of her catatonic shock and looked up at him, "how can that man have your face?"

"I don't know," Peter shrugged.

"He looks like he's related," Natalie continued, "are you sure you don't have family in this area?"

"No, I'm not," Peter replied, "I have no idea who my blood relatives are, I was adopted as a wee baby."

"Maybe Hardy is..." Natalie started but one of the police women, still in uniform announced that it was time to be seated, that dinner was about to be served.

Quickly finding their name cards they took their seats. Seconds later the table was filled up, with only one empty chair. They picked up the menus and started to look at the pre-chosen options and were busy making their selections when the last person joined them.

The silence that fell over the table was instant. The friendly chatter, the small talked ceased. Peter lowered his menu and looked across the table to find the latest arrival looking right back at him.

DCI Hardy.

Wondering if he could fake a heart attack and get out of the ordeal of having to dine with this almost-clone and the man who took the job that was rightfully his, Peter managed a sickly smile in Hardy's direction.

Hardy did not return the smile. In fact, Peter noted with a detached interest, from the look of that sourpuss, he didn't know what a smile felt like. It would probably crack his face if he attempted one.

Seconds later he was proven wrong as Hardy smiled at him, "you might as well go ahead and get it out," he gestured at Peter with one hand.

"What's that sir?" Peter's mind raced. Which 'it'? The uncanny resemblance? The odd feeling of hearing your voice coming from some else's mouth? The fact that Hardy had no right to be given the DCI position?

"Take your pick," Hardy continued, still smiling with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The eyes that were now boring into his soul.

Peter covered, a bit awkwardly, by picking up his beer and taking a long drink of it.

"No hurry," Hardy nodded slightly, "we've got all night." 


	4. Chapter 4

Being on a cop's salary, Peter didn't get to eat at places like New Moon very often and he was determined not to let anything, not Hardy sitting right across from him picking at the food as if it were slop, or the enigma of a man with his same face or anything get in the way of him enjoying himself.

Natalie seemed to be just as determined. She kept up the small talk, occasionally throwing a bit Hardy's way with limited success. Finally he was called to the podium to give a little speech.

Quickly finishing his meal Peter suggested they take the opportunity of Hardy's absence to make good their getaway, but Natalie shook her head, "you can't just duck out now," she cautioned, "it'll seem like you're running away!"

"But I am running away," Peter laughed shortly, "he gives me the creeps."

"It shouldn't be much longer," Natalie tried for a reassuring smile, "they're serving dessert, see?" she gestured towards the large slice of cake now placed in front of her.

Peter sighed, but realised she was right. He had to stand his ground, if he didn't Hardy would know he had unnerved him and that would give the man the upper hand. Not a good way to start their working relationship.

Some of the more hardcore drinkers lingered as most of the more sensible folk said their goodnights. Hardy kept looking towards the door, even as his subordinates welcomed him and said how happy they were to have him as their new boss.

It was sickening, Peter thought, all the kissing up. He was determined to never to that himself, and hoped that Hardy wasn't the type to expect that from his officers.

But it was clear that Hardy was more discomforted by these displays than cheered.

Finally when it was his turn to troop past Peter decided to take mercy on him, "bet this sort of thing isn't your most favourite," he smiled.

For a brief, awkward moment he thought Hardy would take offence, but instead he smiled. This time a genuine one that lit up his sour face, "I'd rather eat broken glass," he admitted almost shyly.

"It can't be easy coming to a new town," Natalie piped up, "I should know because I just moved her from..."

"Some place else," Peter cut in, "we both did."

Natalie frowned at him, but continued on, "we'd love to have you over for dinner, once you get settled."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hardy replied. Then he started to turn away, but remembering his manners he added, "thanks."

Natalie watched him go, "what an odd man," she murmured.

"Not big on the social graces," Peter took her arm, "hopefully he's better at police work than socialising."

"If not," Natalie gave him a slight squeeze, "that DCI position could be yours!"

Trying not to let her words get his hopes up Peter opened the car door for her before sliding behind the wheel, "tomorrow's going to be an interesting day," he mused aloud.

"You'll be fine," Natalie assured him, distractedly. She couldn't get the image of Hardy's all-too-familiar face out of her head. She had always liked puzzles, crosswords, and so on, and the events of the night had her mind racing.

Peter was just as preoccupied. Just who was Hardy really? he wondered. He could do a little bit of side investigating. After all Hardy had declared knowledge of him, so maybe it was time to get a little on his new boss? Forewarned is forearmed after all.

He smiled a little secret smile as he drove into the night. First thing tomorrow, he promised himself, he'd put his excellent detective skills to good use. 


	5. Chapter 5

Although he had seemed uninterested and unaffected by meeting Carlisle, Hardy was also wondering about this strange coincidence.

After finally shedding himself of the phonies who wanted to suck up to him, to curry favour, he headed back to the police station. Firing up his computer he pulled up Carlisle's personnel file and studied it, searching for clues.

He knew the details of his relationship with Natalie, that was common gossip, and the whispers of Carlisle botching the murder case in Blackpool, possibly on purpose, had hit his ears the moment he arrived in Kendal.

He scrolled to the reviews. Carlisle had been given high marks in most areas by his superiors, with the occasional note of 'has a tendency towards unorthodox methods of investigation' and 'not good in the role of team player' he read with interest, even though he knew he had the same marks on his permanent record.

He sat back, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There was something about Carlisle that set his teeth on edge. The man was too polished, and thought himself cleverer than those around him, that was readily apparent.

Ethics, also, seemed to be a bit of a problem for him. Whereas it wasn't exactly against the rules to date a suspect's wife during an active investigation, it certainly was in poor taste. True, it was only after the case went cold that Natalie had actually left her husband to be with Carlisle, but it smacked of something sordid nonetheless.

Settling his glasses back onto his nose, Hardy tapped into the General Register Office database. Time to get a bit more skinny on Carlisle. Birth records, marriages, divorces, and the like.

There was no getting around it, the man was a near duplicate of himself. Cleaned up, and wearing more expensive clothing but essentially he was the same.

Hardy had heard that statistically there was always someone out there who looked like you, but he had never expected to come face to face with that person, and to find that despite there outward differences, there would be so many similarities.

He had never known his birth parents. He grew up shuffled from one foster home to another. A child of the system. He learned early on that he wasn't ever to have a true home, the white picket fence and parents who loved him. He grew up quickly and go himself declared an independent minor as soon as he was legally able to, and it seemed the system was happy to see him go.

Maybe that's why he married so foolishly, he mused. Pulling out his wallet he gazed at the picture of his daughter. She was the one thing in his life that he did right, he smiled as he ran his fingers over the image's face.

He had wanted to give her the home and family that he had never had. But despite all his efforts his marriage ended badly and she was denied the dream he had for her.

She seemed come out of it all right in the end. Once the news had gotten out about the truth behind Sandbrook, she had re-establish contact with him. All that time she had blamed him for the break up of the family, for the disgrace he had taken on as his own. Now that she knew she seemed to be trying to make up for lost time.

He shook his head, clearing the unwanted thoughts that side-tracked his investigation into the anomaly that was Peter Carlisle.

Printing out some key information he rose from his desk, stretching his cramped sore muscles. As he raised his arms over his head he felt the scar from the pacemaker surgery twinge a bit. It was still healing, even though the stitches were long gone.

Running his fingers under his shirt he felt the slight raise where the scalpel had bit into his skin, and marvelled that he had made it out of the surgery alive. He had been told by so many that he would die on the operating table that he had made funeral arrangements.

But he proved them all wrong, and there was a lot of satisfaction in that. He liked being able, once again, to show his doubters that he would had won, and as long as he had breath in him, he planned to continue to win!

He smiled as he tucked in his shirt and went to get the printouts from off the printer. 


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning Peter was sullen and silent across the breakfast table. Natalie kept up her cheery chatter even though she knew full well he hadn't slept a wink. He had tried to lay still, keep from waking her and went so far as to play possum when she looked over at him, but she could feel the tension coming off of him like waves of heat on the Promenade in summer time.

Absently he poured another cup of tea, lightening in with milk and his customary four spoons of sugar, stirred it and drank it down like a man on autopilot.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she finally ventured.

"No," he sighed dramatically as he pushed away the toast she had set in front of him.

"He didn't seem that bad, Hardy, that is," she tried to sound optimistic, glass half full, but it was apparent Peter was not buying it.

"Not that bad?" he snapped, "he kept staring at me like I was a dissected insect on a glass slide! Just waiting for me to say or do the wrong thing!"

"Now..." Natalie started but he held up his hands, cutting her off.

"And I could tell he was eyeing you, too!" he continued, "I'm sure the little gossip gerties have filled him in on us!"

Natalie stiffened, "what about us?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, you know," Peter shrugged casually, "how we met, and wound up together. You know how folk are when they get a hold of something that seems the least bit sordid."

Feeling like she'd been stabbed in the heart to hear how Peter had classified their relationship, Natalie's eyes welled up.

Peter didn't seem to notice, "and I'm sure someone with his puritanical nature will find a way to use that against me."

"You can't be sure of that," Natalie countered, trying to soothe both herself and Peter, "maybe he's just not good with small talk, social graces..."

Peter slammed down the empty cup, "why are you defending him?" he growled.

"I'm not!" she insisted, "I just think you're going off half-cocked without knowing the facts, you don't even know him!"

Peter stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, "thanks for the moral support," he snorted, "you really know how to cheer a bloke up."

Then he stomped out of the kitchen and soon she heard the front door slam. Her face ached from trying to kept the tears back. Peter usually took the time to give her a kiss, tell her how much he loved her, before going to work.

Early on in their relationship he had said that he never wanted to have something bad happen at work and know that he hadn't said a proper goodbye.

She made an effort not to dwell on his angry words, knowing that it was fear for his job, still fresh resentment from being passed over for a well deserved promotion, nothing she had done had caused him to be in such a mood.

Or so she hoped.

Peter pulled into the car park, staring at headquarters with a heavy heart. He had been given the pick of the litter for assignments, investigations that were high profile, had plenty of media coverage and had become the darling of the local press.

He could sense that Hardy wasn't the type of man to let himself be upstaged by a subordinate. He also could tell that the normal apple polishing and boot-licking forms of sucking up would be looked at with disdain.

He really needed to find Hardy's weaknesses, his vulnerabilities and use them to his advantage.

With a slight smile, he headed into the building, confident of his ability to charm anyone of any gender, he knew it would just be a matter of time before he had Hardy eating out of his hand. 


	7. Chapter 7

The morning briefing started out pretty dully, No outstanding cases, nothing glamorous. A few break-ins, a car or two stolen, nothing that Peter could get excited about. And the fact that Hardy seemed to alternate between mumbling and nearly shouting made Peter shut him out, day dreaming about a walk on the beach with Natalie, instead of paying attention.

Until he had the uncomfortable feeling he was being watched. He blinked and noticed that everyone in the room was staring at him.

"Are we boring you?" Hardy asked in a tone that sounded both sympathetic and menacing.

"Huh?" Peter grunted, then remembering his place, quickly added, "sorry sir, I was just thinking about the cases you were discussing."

Hardy seemed unconvinced, "is that so? Why don't you come up here," he gestured towards the podium "and give us your thoughts on that last one?"

Peter straightened up in his chair, trying not to let the low panic in his stomach show on his face, "I think you covered it pretty nicely, sir. I have nothing to add at this time."

A few of twitters of amused laughter and snickers could be heard around the room but were quickly hushed as Hardy scowled at the offenders.

"Dismissed," he said, finally, closing the binder in front of him. People scrabbled to their feet, eager to get out from under their superior's watchful eye. Most likely to gather in the kitchen for coffee, tea and to joke about what just happened.

As he rose to leave, congratulating himself on his fast thinking Peter heard, "not you Carlisle, you and I need to have a little chat."

Playing it cool, Peter kept his expression bland, even though his heart was now somewhere in the vicinity of his knees.

Hardy held out a folder to him, "since you seemed so interested in the last case I 'covered pretty nicely'," he smiled humourlessly, "I've decided to assign you to it."

Peter quickly opened it, and glanced at the information contained within, "it's a routine shop burglary," he protested, "I usually investigate homicides, and cases like that."

"No one saw fit to kill someone to keep you amused," Hardy replied.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Peter said, "I'm just..."

He stopped, ran a hand over his face, trying to compose his thoughts and mount a convincing argument.

"There are plenty of other officers here," Peter pointed at the door, "why not give one of them these piddly cases?"

"I'm fairly sure," Hardy blew out a long breath, "that the sweet shop owner who's shop got broken into would argue that this isn't 'piddly'."

Peter opened his mouth to mount another objection but Hardy held up his hand, "if you'd rather be assigned to the flasher case, I could send you down to Vice for that investigation. Of course you'd have to go undercover, the flasher seems to prefer showing off his goods to elderly women..."

He extracted another folder from a stack and held it out.

"Fine!" Peter snapped, then taking a moment to compose himself he pushed his irritation down, "I'll take the shop thing."

Slipping the proffered folder back into the pile, Hardy resisted the urge to poke at the already fuming man, wanting to say something along the lines of it being a shame that the town would be denied seeing Carlisle in drag.

Instead he nodded, by way of goodbye, gathered his things and left the room. 


	8. Chapter 8

Deciding that the old adage, "keep your friends close and your enemies closer," applied to this situation Peter rushed back to his desk to start digging into Hardy's past.

The problem was someone had locked down his personnel file. Peter had used his boyish charms on the head of HR when he first got assigned to Kendal and had been given the master password to all of the files.

It worked on his own, he noted, and everyone else's, but the minute he tried to access Hardy's file he got locked out.

The urge to slam his fists into the monitor and swear profusely made him almost sweat with the effort of holding back. Finally he decided that a coffee, doughnuts, with pink icing of course and some flattery would be best applied in person.

He pictured Sybil Whitney, the head of HR, her uniform stretched tight over her generous figure and the way her processed hair always looked just shy of breaking off at the roots. She would give him what he needed, he grinned.

Hardy watched as the warning messages flashed across his computer's screen. Carlisle was so predictable, he shook his head ruefully.

Did he really think that he would be able to hack into his personnel file? He smiled as he typed in his access code to reset the password once again. He had seen Carlisle get up from his desk and knew instinctively that he was going to try to chat up Whitney in HR.

She had been given strict orders to not give Carlisle anything, but she also seemed to be very smitten with the DI, and would probably fold like a cheap tent in a stiff wind.

He, however, had everything he needed to know about Carlisle, already downloaded and printed out.

Or...he rubbed his hands over his face, most of what he needed to know. The fact that he had been adopted as infant, and seemed to share too many qualities in common, made Hardy concerned.

Was this irritating man, this self-absorbed, ego on legs related? His brother? His birth certificate mentioned nothing about there being a twin, but it was also dated a good 5 months later. It was possible that when Carlisle was adopted out was when the certificate had been created?

And what, if anything, did this possible genetic link mean to him? He wasn't looking for family, he had one already. His daughter was his world, even more so now that they had been reunited.

He didn't need a brother, especially not a jumped up prick like Carlisle.

He hoped that Carlisle wouldn't expect, if all this were true, that he would go easy on him just because they shared DNA. He didn't like Carlisle, he had so very little in common with him aside from appearances, and he couldn't imagine even being friends with him, let alone family.

He sat back in his chair, and stared up at the ceiling.

Was he being a bit too hard on Carlisle because he was worried about himself? Was he being unnecessarily harsh towards the man?

Then he recalled Carlisle's whinging about 'piddly cases' and regular good old fashioned police work being somehow beneath him and his doubts flew out the window.

Carlisle had spent way too much time using his charms to get what he wanted, Hardy was not a swooning old maid and he was not sustainable to wide eyes or smiles being used as a weapon.

He would be firm but fair, Carlisle was nothing special, and he would soon find out that he needed to work just as hard as anyone under his supervision or he'd be out on his bony arse.

Speaking of, Hardy realised he had been sitting for far too long. Time to take a stroll up to HR he decided with a crooked smile and interrupt the little love fest that was sure to be in progress. 


	9. Chapter 9

"Tea break already?" Hardy announced as he burst into the room.

At least Whitney had the good grace to jump at his entrance, get pink in the face and look embarrassed. She knew she had been caught in the act, and could barely look him in the eye.

Carlisle, however, was another matter. He just stood up from his cosy place, perched on this edge her desk and smoothly held out the bag of doughnuts for him.

"Want one?" he smiled winningly.

"I can't eat that," Hardy snarled, "and if you want to pass the fitness test later this year, neither should you."

He looked pointedly at Whitney's ample figure. She coloured even more, "well," she announced getting up from her chair and trying to smooth the tight cloth down over her waist, "I have some filing to do..."

And with that she quickly left the room. Both men watched her go, the silence broken only by the tip-tap of her shoes as she tried not to break into a dead run away from them.

"What is it, exactly, that you think you're doing?" Hardy asked, focusing back on Peter.

"Sharing some light refreshments with a colleague," Peter replied levelly, "I was unaware this was some sort of violation of the rules."

"Of course it isn't," Hardy said, "it's very commendable in fact."

Then he made like he was going to leave, waiting until he got to the doorway to turn around, "it's just a bit of a coincidence that you were trying to access my personnel file, and now I catch you up here making eyes with the head of HR, I'm sure."

He didn't wait for Carlisle's reaction to being caught out, but pressed on, "I hope you are this detailed, focused and have as much follow up in the case you were assigned this morning."

"If so, I expect I'll have your report on my desk by Friday and the suspects in jail," he continued with a tight lipped smile.

Satisfied he had gotten his point across, he left Carlisle standing there, mouth slightly open, to reconsider just how clever he thought he was and to realise Hardy was at least ten times more clever.

Peter watched his step the rest of the day. Making routine inquiries, doing a bit of field work, talking to shop owners and so on. The whole time painfully aware that Hardy had his laser sharp eyes focus directly on him.

He had been careless, and played his hand too early, and gotten caught. He needed to have Hardy relax his vigil, come to think of Peter as just another drone, and once he was lulled into a false sense of security, he would redouble his efforts.

He listened to the news agent's tale of woe with only half of his attention. The D.C. that accompanied him took copious notes so he didn't feel the need to. Which was just as well, he didn't think he could stay awake through the monotonous prattle if he had to listen to it too closely.

"I opened the shop today," the woman continued, going into what felt like hour twelve of her speech, "and someone had put this between the doors!"

She opened a small bin liner and extracted a rather distressed looking stuffed animal with a knife stuck through it.

The D.C. pulled out a pair of rubber gloves before taking the toy from her. He examined solemnly like it was a murder victim, rather than a stuffed animal. Then he tagged it and slipped it into a large evidence bag.

By the time the shop worker ran out of steam, Peter was happy to note it was near quitting time. Just needed to swing back by the station, file poor Teddy as evidence, then it was home to Natalie to hopefully forget Hardy and have a few blissful hours of respite. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hardy usually stayed until the night shift was well under way. The skeleton crew that comprised it was used to seeing his light on until the wee hours and came to think of it as routine. They put it down to dedication, but really it was that he had nothing to go home to.

As long as he was working he didn't have to acknowledge that his flat held nothing but a potted plant that he sometimes remembered to water before the leaves drooped like a Weeping Willow, and a television that he rarely turned on.

He studied the day's reports, petty crimes mostly. The flasher had struck again. Unfortunately most of the elderly women he chose to expose himself to could give very detailed descriptions of the organ in question, but never seemed to look up the see the man's face.

He pictured a line up of just that particular bit of a man's anatomy and wondered if anyone had asked whether or not the offender had been circumcised? Flipping through the case file he discovered that the particular question had never been addressed. He needed to pass the directive on to Vice to be sure to ask next time.

Removing his glasses he rubbed his eyes. When you spent over twenty minutes looking for whether a perp was cut or not, it was probably time to pack it in.

Rising he gathered up some papers, grabbed his laptop and carrying case and packed up for the night. Glancing at the clock he noted that it was half-past eleven and that meant dinner would either be take away from the greasy fast food places that lined the high street or something purchased from a petrol station.

Neither sounded particularly appealing, and he wondered if he had anything other than cold cereal in his flat and a few, possibly stale, biscuits?

Flipping a mental coin, he decided he wasn't terribly hungry anyway. Home, a cup of tea, and a hot bath before bed was what he really needed.

Turning off his office light he hoped to not run into anyone on his way out and have to make small talk when all he really wanted was to be shed of this place for the night.

"We should have him for dinner," Natalie announced as they got ready for bed.

"Too skinny," Peter replied slipping the worn Ramones tshirt that he liked to sleep in over his head, "we wouldn't get much meat off of him."

"OK, Hannibal Lecter," she smacked him playfully with a pillow, "you know what I mean! We should have Hardy over for dinner. Maybe if he gets to know you outside of the work environment he'd see you're a good person."

"Oh?" Peter smiled at her, "I am?"

"Of course you are," she protested, then realising he was teasing her, she returned the smile, "although it's also nice to know you can be naughty, too."

Sliding into bed, and holding the sheet up for her Peter pulled her in tight, "when I'm good I'm very, very good," he whispered in her ear, "but when I'm bad, I'm better."

Natalie snuggled in next to him, hoping that his good mood meant some intimacy would be forthcoming. He had been so distracted, almost aloof, since Hardy's welcome dinner, and she was glad that he finally seemed to be snapping out of it.

She pressed her chest against his, and ran her fingers down his back the way he liked, and moved in to give him a passionate kiss, but he pulled away from her.

He flipped back over onto his back, folding his hands across his chest he asked, "what would someone like that eat?"

Natalie had a hard time switching her brain from the encounter she hoped to have, to domestic thoughts, "I don't know, I'm sure he has to eat sometime?"

"He is awfully thin," Peter mused, "maybe he's anorexic?"

"You said he had some medical issues," Natalie prompted, "perhaps he's still recovering from that?"

"I know he doesn't like doughnuts," Peter replied staring up at the ceiling.

"Good," Natalie laughed, "I won't make those for dinner."

"I'll have to find out," Peter continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "really tick all his boxes, and maybe he'd lighten up on me!"

With that he turned over on his side, his back to her and turned out the light.

Natalie fumed silently. Not only did he not make love to her, she didn't even get a goodnight kiss!

Picturing clobbering Peter over the head with one of her slippers, she instead extinguished her light and lay in the darkness wondering what she needed to do to rekindle some of the romance back into their relationship. 


	11. Chapter 11

Hardy was not pleased to find that two more shops had been broken into. Each time the CCTV was not working by the time that the crimes were committed. The person or persons responsible were very clever, and varied their techniques but it all came down to the same thing, no footage of the perps.

This all stunk of an inside job. Someone within the local law enforcement?

He had made a point of researching everyone on staff, and aside from a few closet drinkers, a handful of sneaky affairs and other mostly minor infractions there was no one he'd consider that corrupt.

He took up the file on Carlisle once more. It had been rumoured that there were some financial misdealing on the DI's part. He did dress in designer labels and the house he shared with his live-in girlfriend was very posh.

But it didn't take long to find out that Natalie's ex-husband had been sending her money to help keep her living in the style she had become accustomed to. It was seedy and a bit underhanded, but as far as Hardy could tell, Carlisle knew nothing about this arrangement.

Still...he picked up the picture Carlisle had taken for his most recent ID badge, there was something about him that set Hardy's teeth on edge.

He decided to get up, make a cup of tea and walk away from the facts in cold black and white and let his mind wander.

Maybe he was so focused on Carlisle's rather unnerving resemblance and so whenever something triggered his suspicion it had his erstwhile doppelg nger face written across it.

He had made some inquiries to the Blackpool Police Department. Spoken to a DCI Albright about Carlisle's work there.

The DCI was professional, and alarmingly vague when pressed about Carlisle's performance. Mentioning, when questioned, how 'dedicated' and 'focused' his work had been. Saying nothing about the only case he had worked on never being closed or giving any sort of opinion or hint.

In fact on the transfer request, Albright didn't even bother to sign it, using a rubber stamp instead. To Hardy that smacked of someone trying to distance himself from anything to do with the person in question.

Why was that? Hardy mused, as he added two spoons of sugar to his tea and stirred it slowly.

"Sir?" a voice called him out of his thoughts.

He turned slowly around to see one of the young female officers holding out a piece of paper.

"Yes?" he tried to keep the irritation out of his tone. She looked like she was afraid he was going to bite, and at the moment that idea was fairly tempting.

"This just came in," she held up an envelope out that had 'important' and 'confidential' marked on it in big red letters.

Hardy took the envelope and started to open it when he realised the officer was still standing there looking at him expectantly. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cello wrapped sweet and handed it to her.

She stared at it like it was a large spider as he turned and walked away.

The police officer jumped at she heard from around the corridor a loud and very profane exclamation. Deciding it was best to ignore the swearing and find a bin to place the strange offering she held her palm rigid, with the sweet balanced delicately on it and walked very carefully to throw it away. 


	12. Chapter 12

Natalie figured that if she left it up to the men they would continue to piss a circle around each other, show how macho and tough they were until one of them was goaded into doing something he might regret.

She loved Peter but he did have a bit of a temper, she had never seen him take a swing at anyone but she could tell he had been tempted to more than once. Given DCI Hardy's somewhat frail appearance and Peter's slim but fit body, she reckoned it would not be a fair fight and neither man would ultimately be the winner.

Deciding it was up to her to extend the figurative olive branch, she figured she'd contrive a meeting with her Peter's boss and invite him to join her for lunch, or a cup of tea. She hoped she could talk up Peter in a more casual setting and perhaps Hardy would see he was really a valuable member of the force, and an all around good guy.

Problem was; she had waited outside the station most of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon and Hardy was a no show. She had seen Peter leave and come back a few times, and had been tempted to reveal herself but she knew she needed to stick to plan.

She had brought a book, so it wasn't all watching and waiting, but the pages were growing closer to the end and the sun getting lower in the sky. She knew that Peter didn't expect dinner on the table when he got home, he had been a bachelor too long, but he certainly would wonder what she had done with her day.

Trying not to glance at her watch for what seemed like the millionth time she made herself concentrate on the book.

She was brought out of her novel by the realisation she was no longer alone, "now this is a nice surprise," Peter grinned down at her, "waiting for me to get off work?"

Natalie couldn't help but return his smile. He was a handsome man at all times but when he smiled his whole face lit up and his dark eyes sparkled as he looked at her, "of course!"

He bent down to give her a kiss, "not that I mind," he teased, "but if you start to make this a habit, I might get worried about you needing to get out more!"

"I was in town," she said omitting as to why, "and since it was near your knock-off time I thought I'd hang about, and maybe we could get a bite to eat?"

"Let's get some take-away," Peter held out his hand to her, helping her off the low wall that had become her vantage point, "and go home. It's been a hell of a day."

As she rose, she saw Hardy leaving the building at last. Gritting her teeth she tried to keep her smile in place. Sneaking a glance at her watch she noted the time and promised herself she'd be back the next day to try again.

Peter didn't seem to notice her change in attitude, he was discussing what he fancied for dinner and how they really should try out some place he had heard was really good.

Hardy saw Carlisle leave with his girlfriend and felt a bit of a twinge of jealousy. Part of him was horrified that she seemed to live and breathe for the other man, and that her whole world appeared to revolve around him.

And the other part of him was envious.

He hadn't been in a relationship since his doomed marriage, not wanting to get too close to someone else again so soon.

But, truth be told, he was lonely. His gruff persona was effective, perhaps too much so, and people avoided him whenever possible, which most of the time suited him just fine.

But in those rare moments, when he let his guard down, and took a good look at himself, he knew that he couldn't keep this wall of solitude up for too much longer, lest it come tumbling down around him.

Giving himself a mental shake he pulled out of his pity party and headed towards his car, forcing himself not to look at the happy couple as they walked away from him. 


	13. Chapter 13

Hardy had been working since he gave up on sleep around 4am until his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten. Normally he wasn't prone to going out for lunch, he usually worked straight through it. But a the growing emptiness in his stomach and quick search of his desk that came up with a broken and completely stale biscuit and a few fuzzy breath mints convinced him he needed to.

He rarely ate out, and didn't want to ask any of his staff for a recommendation, so he decided to just walk about a bit until something looked interesting.

Squinting in the bright sun light, he recalled a day at the beach his then-wife had insisted upon one summer when their daughter was young.

His childhood experiences with his foster parents on their one 'family holiday' where they had spent most of the time drinking themselves stupid and arguing, made the idea of going on one as an adult almost as appealing as getting teeth removed with no anaesthesia and a rusty spoon.

His wife had heard his story about this and insisted that the trip would be different. A few days in and he had found that, yes, indeed it was. In fact, he mused, it was the happiest time of their marriage.

Before the affair, before the scandal...

He was brought out of his memories by the realisation that someone was calling his name, "DCI Hardy?"

A vaguely familiar woman was standing across the street waving at him, "hello!" she called.

His mind, still on the past, took a brief second to recall her identity; Carlisle's girlfriend...Natalie, he corrected himself.

"Can I help you?" he asked as she negotiated traffic to come to stand in front of him.

She smiled, "I was just passing by and saw you come out..." she gestured at the police station, "and was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch?"

He stiffened at the suggestion, Natalie could see a frown lurking at the edge of his eyes, and waited for the refusal she knew was to come.

"I really don't..." he started.

"I hate eating alone," she quickly cut in, "and I have this friend who recommended a place that Peter would never go to, it's a new Mexican place just down there."

Again she could tell he was going to turn her down, so she added, "and I will never go there on my own."

That seemed to do it, his face softened and he managed a polite smile, "I'd like that," he said without a great deal of enthusiasm, but at least he tried, Natalie noted.

Peter had just stepped outside, having poured over his case files for what seemed like the millionth time since the miserable bastard Hardy had assigned him to the shop robberies.

Each time the CCTV was disabled in advance, no one saw anything, none of the usual informants had any ideas and the shop owners were not the type to take inventory very often. So, aside from cash taken, which was pretty untraceable, they had nothing to go on.

As he left the building he saw Natalie across the street and smiled at this happy coincidence. He would take her to lunch and...

Then his smile froze, as she bounded over to another man and started obviously chatting him up. He could only see the back of the man's head, but that was enough. She was talking to his boss, Hardy.

His heart sunk further as the two of them, thick as thieves, and Natalie using her most charming smile on Hardy, walked away.

Peter's fist clenched as his side. His anger blazing as bright as the sun as he recalled the warning one of his friends had given him about Natalie, "you know if she's willing to cheat on her husband with you, she's bound to cheat on you with someone else!"

At the time he shrugged that off, putting it down as pure and simple jealousy at his good fortune.

Now, as he watched her walk away with Hardy, he couldn't get those words out of his head. 


	14. Chapter 14

As he followed close behind Peter kept telling himself that he was being silly. Natalie loved him! He knew it, and Hardy was, frankly, about as loveable as a badger with a head cold. There had to be a perfectly innocent reason for the two of them going off together.

But, for the life of him, he couldn't come up with one.

He shadowed the two of them, using techniques he had learned as a trainee. Keeping people between him and the people he was following. Given his height, Peter could see easily over most of the people in front of him, and Hardy's ginger hair did stand out in a crowd.

He also paid close attention to their body language. He knew how to read Natalie when she was flirting. She had a habit of licking her lips and tucking her hair behind her ears, and he watched carefully hoping in his heart of hearts that he would not see her do either of these things.

Hardy's body language was easy. He had that 'stick up the arse' posture he always exhibited. Hands jammed into his pockets as if they were somehow tied to his shoelaces.

Was it Peter's imagination or did Hardy's usual stern expression seem to be softened around Natalie?

There was no denying that Natalie was a beautiful woman. Any man with a pulse, even a sour-puss like Hardy could not help but notice her.

Peter's heart clenched as he thought about losing her. He knew he had no right to expect she'd stay with him for the rest of his life. She was used to the finer things, he often laid awake at night worrying that one day she'd get tired of trying to live on a police man's salary and go back to her life in Blackpool.

He grimaced in emotional pain as he remembered how he wooed her away from her husband. He knew he didn't deserve a woman as wonderful as Natalie and now that he faced the real possibility of losing her? He didn't know if he could bow out as gracefully as Ripley had.

He wouldn't give her up without a fight, dignity be damned!

Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as he realised that they had come to a stop. He risked being seen as they looked at a menu board posted outside a popular lunch spot.

Leaning in, Natalie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pointed out the specials. Peter couldn't decide if that was a sign of flirting or if her hair just got in the way of being able to read the board.

He had just decided to give her the benefit of a doubt when she linked her arm in Hardy's and gave him a smile as the went into the restaurant together.

Quickly moving to the opposite side of the street, to get a better view, Peter watched as the were seated by the window and opened up their menus.

The urge to barge in and confront them, was tempered by the fact that not only could it cost him his job, but could wind up costing him his relationship with Natalie. He could almost feel Hardy's cheap suit's lapels in his clenched fists, as he pictured giving his boss a frank and honest (and physical) opinion of his actions.

Calm down! He yelled in his head, you're overreacting again. It's just a meal! People had to eat, after all. And it wasn't like they had gone a hotel room for a sneaky tryst (like we did in Blackpool, he chided himself) they were just eating...together.

From his stakeout point across the street Peter watched and waited, hoping against hope that this wasn't the beginning of the end as far as his relationship with Natalie.

His life before her had been dull, lifeless and without meaning. He wasn't sure he could handle going back to those bland days. Sure there were other women out there, some younger and possibly even more beautiful, but he didn't want them, he wanted Natalie!

As he stood there, he wasn't sure what was worse; losing her or losing her to Hardy? 


	15. Chapter 15

As they were shown to a table by a window Natalie kept up a steady stream of chit-chat regarding the restaurant and all the decadent desserts that she had heard about.

The minute they were seated she picked up the menu and began to study it eagerly. A few minuted later she looked over the edge of it, and saw that DCI Hardy hadn't even glanced at his.

"I've heard they have really good fish tacos here," she pointed at the listing.

"I don't eat that sort of thing," he replied in a tone that sounded like she had suggested he consume a pile of steaming pig entrails.

"Oh," she tried to keep her smile going,"how about a burrito? They have beef or chicken..."

"I'm not really very hungry," he folded his arms across his painfully thin chest.

Putting the menu down she leaned across to him, "maybe a nice soup, or salad?" she found herself wanting to mother him all of a sudden.

Before he could respond the waitress returned. Natalie ordered the fish tacos for herself and tortilla soup for her reluctant dining partner, half expecting him to protest her presumption, but he stayed silent.

Once the drinks arrived, a glass of sweet white wine for her, and a steaming cup of tea for Hardy, the silence at the table had grown to an almost unbearable level.

Hardy added milk and sugar to his tea, stirring it, but not taking a sip. Finally he sat back, "what is it you want from me?" he asked.

"Want from you?" Natalie squeaked, then she cleared her throat and took a healthy swig of her wine, "nothing."

"You just randomly happened to bump into me?"

"Right!"

"After hanging around outside for two days, possibly more?" he continued with a slight smile.

She set her glass down with a deflated sigh, "you saw me?"

He nodded, "you wouldn't win any awards for subtlety, but you do have my curiosity piqued, so the question remains; what is it you want?"

"Peter is a good man," Natalie started, "and I know you probably got off on the wrong foot, he can be a bit brash, but he means well."

He regarded her unblinkingly, waiting for her to continue.

"And I think if you go to know him better..."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You might like him!"

"It doesn't matter if I like him or not. If he does his job, that's all that really matters, being a police officer isn't a popularity contest."

Figuring this was getting her no where Natalie changed tactics, "I know what it's like to be in a new town, away from friends and family..."

He frowned slightly at that so she pressed on, "and I would, we would," she corrected herself, "like to have you over for dinner."

"I don't do that sort of thing," he replied flatly.

"You have to eat, right?" she continued, "and I make a really good roast beef with trimmings..."

She stopped as he pulled a face, "oh, you're vegetarian?"

"No."

"With Yorkshire pudding and everything..." she finished quickly.

This time he smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his whole face, "you think that if you feed me I'll let up on your...?"

He waited for her to supply the term, "boyfriend".

"It would be a nice side effect," she admitted, "but I'm not counting on it."

He laughed, "if I don't agree to this now, will you continue to stalk me until I do?"

Natalie laughed too, "probably!" she admitted.

"I give up," he leaned forward, resting one arm on the table while picking up his cup of tea and taking a drink.

After he swallowed he shrugged, "OK, when?" 


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the meal was fairly uneventful. Once Hardy had loosened up a bit, he still wasn't particularly chatty but at least Natalie got him to string at least four or five words together.

She was careful to keep the conversation light, steering away from potentially sensitive subjects and instead talked about life in Kendal, comparing it to the the more hectic lifestyle of Blackpool.

Natalie could tell Hardy didn't get out much, and apparently had next to nothing in the way of a social life. Unlike his look-a-like, Peter who was a very outgoing fun loving sort, Hardy seemed to be a lot more reserved.

She made a mental list of her single female friends she could possibly set him up with, because she could tell deep down he was a lonely man. He didn't seem horrible, perhaps just a bit shy?

Then there was his resemblance to Peter; if he was a bit less rumpled and got a more stylish hair cut, he'd be quite handsome. The right woman could get him to smarten up his wardrobe a bit and perhaps shave a bit more frequently. The dark stubble that dotted his cheeks, she mused, added to the impression that he was older and more road weary.  
Hardy excused himself after insisting on paying the bill, saying he had to get back to work. Natalie had just tucked into a sinful chocolate mousse and didn't want to leave until she had finished, so she stayed behind.

She was savouring the last bite when the seat opposite her was once again occupied. Thinking that Hardy had forgotten something or had decided to order dessert after all, she didn't look up right away.

When she did she nearly jumped out of her skin. Instead of the rumpled, haggard-looking DCI she faced Peter.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, his voice hard and his eyes cold.

"I was just finishing lunch," she said lamely, knowing now that he had followed her.

"With my boss..." he added.

"It was just lunch Peter," she set her spoon down and reached for his hand, but he pulled it away.

"It's not like we had a shag, in the middle of a crowded restaurant!" she tried for levity, but saw immediately that Peter was not in the mood for it.

"So..." he continued, his eyes boring into hers, "what were you doing?"

"I was going to see if you were free," she lied, "but I waited until half past, and you didn't show and DCI Hardy came out and I thought if he got to know us..."

"Oh, I see," Peter nodded shortly, "you were chatting up my boss to get me in better standing with him..."

Natalie was about to agree with him when it struck her that he was being sarcastic, "I know you don't believe me, but that's exactly it. I even invited him over..."

"For a threesome?" Peter cut her off, "bit daring, but it might work!"

Her temper finally sparked and she stood up, "go fuck yourself!" she snarled as she threw her napkin on the table and stormed out.

Peter didn't turn to watch her leave. Instead he picked up her untouched water glass, took a sip of the now luke-warm liquid. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the stares of the people around him, who were staring unabashedly at him, he make his way out of the restaurant. 


	17. Chapter 17

If Peter had been the hard drinking type, blowing off work for the rest of the day and hitting the pubs would have been his next step after leaving the restaurant alone.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy a pint once in a while, or a glass of something harder on a cold winter's night, but he had never enjoyed the sensation of being drunk. Being completely out of control was something he feared, not sought out.

But the idea of going back to the police station, possibly running into Hardy, was the last thing he wanted to do.

In his heart of hearts he couldn't see Hardy as a rival for Natalie's affection. She liked to laugh, enjoyed the occasional night out dancing, or seeing a show, and Hardy just didn't seem her type.

Then he passed a mirrored window and caught his reflection in it. It was easy to forget that when he had first met Natalie, he wasn't exactly a prize himself. Her love for him and her fashion sense had transformed him from the scruffy bachelor that he had been to the figure he was now staring at in the window.

Maybe she saw Hardy as another pet project? He mused rubbing his chin as if recalling the scruff that used to reside there. He faithfully shaved every morning now, and if they were going out, he would have a second shave.

Being with a beautiful woman like Natalie had made him want to up his game too.

A few years ago, he just like is Hardy is now, he realised. Perhaps Natalie's kind nature, her nurturing heart saw someone she felt needed her help?

Peter scowled as he pictured his life before Natalie. Recently divorced, lonely and miserable, he had seen her and knew that she was the key to changing his life for the better.

Perhaps Hardy saw her in the same way?

He couldn't picture his crusty boss making any romantic gestures towards anyone, that would require him to actually smile and be friendly, let alone put the moves on Natalie.

He knew he had overreacted when he saw the two of them together in that restaurant. He had reacted out of fear over losing her. Instead of thinking it over, being rational he had given rein to the scared little boy in him, the inner child afraid of abandonment.

He tore his eyes from his reflection and headed towards the local florist. Natalie would forgive him, even without flowers, he knew, but they certainly wouldn't hurt.

First thing, he reached into his pocket for his mobile, was to call her and apologise. Turn up the charm, be repentant and soothe things over.

Then flowers...and maybe a nice bottle of wine? Chocolates! He grinned as he dialed her number, that was just what was needed to make her get over being angry with him.

Hardy dreaded returning to the office too. Not because he didn't want to run into Carlisle, it was the fact that it was time for his monthly check up. Because of his recent health issues, he shook his head as he corrected himself, recently uncovered by police sanctioned medical staff and subsequent surgery it had been made a part of his contract.

For the first six months he had to be examined by the doctor in charge. This was his first visit, the 'baseline' as it had been put to him.

He felt fine. Better than he had in years, but there was always that niggling doubt.

It didn't help that he had just spent an hour with Carlisle's persistent girlfriend. Making an effort to be civil while fending off her questions and attempts to pry into his personal life, coupled with substandard food did not leave him in a very cordial mood.

He hoped that none of those factors plus the stress of a series of unsolved crimes on his watch, would adversely effect the examination. If he got a red card now, he would be medicalled out, this time permanently.

This job was all he had, if he was put out to pasture now and for the rest of his life? He shuddered slightly willing himself to calm down, if he went into the examining room in this state he was pretty sure the very thing he feared would come true.

He had ten minutes, he decided as he glanced at his watch, to get into a fit enough state to not get bounced out on his ass.

Taking deep, cleansing breaths he headed into his office, and closed the door behind him 


	18. Chapter 18

This was the worst.

Hardy almost reckoned that getting shot, run over by a train and then burnt at the stake would be better than sitting in a tie-in-the back robe, on a cold medical examination table, with an even colder stethoscope pressed to his chest.

"And how are we feeling?" the doctor asked him.

Resisting the urge to make a smart response to this Hardy kept his answer straight forward, "fine."

"Your heart sounds good and strong now, steady beats, no discernible arrhythmia..." the doctor held up his chart, "but your blood pressure is a bit high."

"I've got a case that so far none of these so-called professionals have been able to crack, and am dealing with a particularly troublesome subordinate," Hardy said, "so I'm not surprised."

The doctor jotted something on the chart, "stress is not good for you," he said in a tone one usually heard from doting mothers or primary school teachers.

"I can't imagine it's good for anyone," Hardy snapped, "but it's part of the job!"

"Let's keep an eye on that, shall we?"

Hardy winced at the smarmy tone but kept it civil, "right."

"You're still a bit underweight, you should up your calorie intake, safely of course, no bingeing on fish and chips, but add a bit more protein into your diet and so on."

Trying not to eye the door or tap his feet impatiently Hardy kept his expression neutral as the doctor made some more notes.

"We're finished here," the doctor smiled, "you're sanctioned for another month. Get in touch with me if you have any concerns before our next visit."

Figuring he'd rather eat a plate of broken glass and drink it down with a cyanide chaser, Hardy nodded. Without waiting for the doctor to leave the room he slipped off the robe and started to get dressed.

By the time he was done he was alone. The doctor didn't seem to want to linger any longer than he did, which suited him just fine.

It was almost like he had been in prisoned for years as he stepped out in the sunlight. He wasn't much for the great outdoors but just the smell of the antiseptic commonly used in doctor's offices made him tense up, and breathing in the fresh air was a welcome relief.

He had the feeling he was being watched but didn't bother turning around as he headed away from the building. It would have been unusual for the doctor who had just examined him to watch him leave, but he didn't put it past him, and didn't feel like adding to the notes already on the file.

Natalie was fuming.

Did Peter really think she was playing around behind his back? With his boss?

It's true that they did resemble each other, and yes, it had been Peter's looks that had piqued her interest at first. He is a very attractive man, so that was not to come as a surprise.

But she wasn't superficial. Sure it was physical at first, she wasn't dead after all, but she had come to love him. She gave him her heart as well as her body, and she didn't give either away lightly.

Maybe she had made a mistake. She had only had lunch with DCI Hardy because she wanted to help him understand what a good man Peter was, and now she wasn't sure her plan had been a sound one.

Wondering if she should apologise for what she had meant as a helpful gesture or wring Peter's neck for being such an ass, she sat at the kitchen table toying with her mobile.

Twice she started to dial Peter's number, to try to explain her motivation, but each time she stopped herself.

After all, she reasoned, Peter had been the one who acted badly. He needed to apologise for his actions before she would then try to make him understand hers.

Wishing she had a friend in the area, someone who could lend her a sympathetic ear she gazed out the window, suddenly feeling very lost and alone. 


	19. Chapter 19

When Peter arrived home all the lights were off. He had figured that Natalie had gone off some where to blow off steam, and wasn't particularly worried.

Going into the kitchen to fetch a vase for the dozen roses he had purchased, he flipped on the light, nearly dropping his armful as he saw Natalie sitting at the table.

"How long have you been sat in the dark?" he asked.

"What time is it now?" she asked, her voice flat and emotionless.

"Half six," Peter replied. He set his apology gifts down on the counter and came to stand behind her.

"I'm sorry for overreacting earlier," he said as he looped his long arms around her shoulders, "I am just so afraid of losing you, and seeing you with Hardy..."

"You thought I was having a fling with him?" she growled, turning around.

"Not really," he said with a shrug, "but for just a moment, a small bit of me...?"

She wanted to stay angry, let her rage at his treatment of her burn within her for a bit longer, but then she looked into his eyes. They were wide and full of sadness, she felt the hurt she had been swimming in since their encounter, drying up.

"I won't leave you," she smiled softly, "until you tell me to go!"

"That'll be never," he smiled back. Then he bounded over to the counter, "I got these for you!"

He handed her the dozen roses, the large box of chocolates and something in a tissue lined bag.

"All this for me?" she laughed as she extracted a large stuffed bear from the bag.

"It doesn't make up for my bad behaviour earlier," he sighed, "but I hope it goes a small way to proving I really am sorry."

She held the bear to her chest, "thank you."

Then she grinned mischievously, "maybe we should fight more often, if this is the results?"

He laughed, "I don't think I could afford it, mentally or financially!"

Hardy was greeted as soon as he got back to the station by one of the patrol officers handing him a folder, "there's been another one!" she said.

"Why are you giving me this? This should go to Carlisle," he grumbled handing it back.

"He knocked off early," she replied, "something about needing to get home for some family issues."

Instantly seeing red at the neglect of duty this represented, Hardy held back the profanities that wanted to issue forth. Instead he snatched the folder from her, "thanks," he said with no trace of gratitude in his voice.

Stalking away he glanced at his wristwatch, he would talk to Carlisle in the morning. For now he tried to remember the doctor's words about cutting back on stress, wondering if that was in any way even possible.

Slamming the door to his office shut and the folder down on his desktop, Hardy sat down heavily at his desk. Opening the personnel file on Carlisle, he read it once again, looking for a reason, any reason to believe that all the praise he had heard heaped on the man's thin shoulders, would be justified.

Willing himself to calm down he closed the file, sat back and rubbed his tired eyes wishing he had the luxury to knock off whenever he felt like it.

Then he realised that even if he did, he had no one to go home to. He'd just ramble about his empty flat or watch telly while eating takeaway, if he remembered to stop for some on the way.

Maybe, he settled his glasses back on his nose, he deserved dinner out, at one of the many posh places on the high street. Perhaps something there would pique his appetite, or at the very least distract him from his troubles for a while.

Rising, he grabbed his coat, turned off the office lights and headed out to find a worthy distraction. 


	20. Chapter 20

The problem wasn't really the lack of available restaurants, Hardy mused as he walked down the High Street, it was the prospect of dining alone.

As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, lunch with Carlisle's girlfriend had awaken a need he had thought long dead; the need for companionship.

No doubt about it, Natalie was an attractive woman and she deserved a better man than Carlisle. Not that he thought he was suitable for her, Hardy tried to reassure himself. She looked to be a fairly high maintenance woman, and he was so far removed from his romancing days, if he had ever really had them, that he knew he would not be a good match for her.

But there were those small moments, during lunch, that he could almost let himself believe that she found him attractive too. But his practical nature brought him back to reality quickly and he would remind himself that he was being sucked up to, not on the receiving end of flirting.

He glanced in the window of one of the restaurants. Inside were families, couples and a few single men clustered at the bar, drinking themselves either out of or into their misery.

Deciding he wasn't really that hungry after all he turned away from the brightly lit establishments, and headed to a the Newsagent's shop for a bag of crisps instead.

As much at Peter wanted to take Natalie to bed, to reclaim her as his, he knew that she needed more time to get over their misunderstanding.

So, instead of a romp in the sack, they sat cuddling on the sofa watching some television show that Peter found dead boring.

Natalie had wrapped herself in a throw and snuggled up to his side her head on his shoulder. He had one arm around her and was absently toying with her hair.

"We should throw a party," she said after a while.

"What for?"

"Invite everyone from your work, as a get-to-know-us, sort of thing," Natalie continued.

Peter frowned, "I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

"We have no friends here."

"I have friends," Peter replied defensively.

"OK, I have no friends," Natalie corrected herself, "maybe I could get to know some of the other officer's wives?"

Peter's expression softened. He had taken Natalie away from Blackpool, her friends and family and hadn't really considered how that would impact on her life. He had been selfish, and never really considered her needs.

"Nothing too extravagant, I'm not exactly rolling in it, but yeah, that might be a good idea!"

Natalie smiled up at him, "it's coming up to Halloween, maybe we could have a costume party?"

Her eager face made Peter feel almost guilty for how little thought he had given to her loneliness. Had expected her to be content to have him as her only contact in Kendal? In her former life she had held a job, as a volunteer, had a family to tend to and be involved with, and here her whole world was him.

Not that it wasn't flattering, he realised, but she needed and deserved more. As much as a costume party wasn't really that thrilling to him, he knew how much she wanted and needed to do this.

"As long as I don't have to be the ass end of the horse, I'm fine with that," Peter chuckled as he kissed the top of her head, promising himself that he would try to be enthused by whatever she had planned. 


	21. Chapter 21

Hardy was pulled out of his office, two days later, by the sounds one would normally associate with a primary school. Excited chattering and giggling filled the room just outside his door.

In every hand there was an orange and black card, "what is going on out here?" he barked, "surely it's not time for recess already!"

Carlisle stepped out of the middle of the huddle and handed him a card identical to the one that others were seeming to find so amusing.

"What is this?" Hardy asked not bothering to open it.

"It's an invitation to the Halloween Party Natalie and I are having," Peter grinned.

Slipping his glasses on Hardy read the invite, then started to hand it back with a sneer of contempt but at the last moment he changed his mind and stuck it in his pocket.

Then addressing the entire room said, "I'm pretty sure this is a police station, we are supposed to be solving crimes, saving innocents, and so on, let's put on our big boy pants and get back to work!"

His words had little effect on the general air of mirth but at least people started heading back to their desks, still clutching the invitations as if they were made of gold, not printed on cheap card stock.

"Carlisle!" Hardy crooked a long finger at his subordinate, "in here, now."

"Uh oh," someone whispered as Peter followed Hardy into his office, "someone's getting sent to the Headmaster's office!"

The minute Peter stepped inside Hardy slammed the door, "where's the updates on those shop break ins?"

"I don't have any updates," Peter quickly corrected himself, "yet."

Before Hardy could launch into a tirade he continued, "I've been going over the CCTV footage, the parts that have not been erased of course..."

"And?"

"Whoever did the erasures obviously had a good knowledge of the software used and the methods for deletion of the images."

Hardy put his hands on his hips and was about to say something about stating the obvious but Peter pressed on, "I've sent four of the backup devices to the data recovery labs in London. The drives the images were stored on were not destroyed so there is some chance that the data can be recovered."

Hardy's shoulders relaxed a bit and Peter could tell that he had managed to impress his rather sceptical boss, even if just a tiny bit.

"Make sure they put a rush on it," Hardy turned away dismissing him, "close the door behind you."

"Yes, sir!" Peter resisted giving a sarcastic salute. Instead he walked out of the office, and into a room of people who suddenly had to pretend they hadn't been watching them through the blinds.

Sitting at his desk, Hardy pretended to be engrossed in something on the computer screen. Instead he had slipped the invitation out of his pocket and set it on the keyboard.

The invitation was a mismatched bit of Halloween clip art, including the requisite spider in a web in one corner and a flock of bats circling the words.

A costume party? Hardy snorted softly. He was well into his adulthood and couldn't imagine dressing up like a child and making a fool of himself in front of his employees.

He almost crumpled the card up and tossed it into the rubbish bin, but then he remembered his promise to himself to get out more. Enjoy the life that his recent surgery had granted him.

But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a costume party as being part of this grand plan.

Gazing out into the squad room he tried to imagine what people would dress as...and more importantly what in the hell would be appropriate for himself?

He discretely pocketed the card again, resettled the glasses on his nose and put the whole crazy idea out of his head...for now. 


End file.
